
to 



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Book ____JEl33_ 



10 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




A MODERN PATRIARCH 





OUR MAN OF 
PATIENCE 



BY 



REV. ANEES T. BAROODY, Ph. D. 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 



m/B&Sk&t& %M$mi%m 




CI.A414643 
*7* j\ t . 






TO 

THE EVER-SWEET MEMORY 
OP THE ENGLISH QUAKER MISSIONARY 

THOMAS LITTLE 

WHOSE PATIENCE AND BROTHERLY LOVE 

WERE THE MAIN FACTORS IN THE 

SHAPING OF MY CHRISTIAN 

LIFE THIS BOOK IS 

DEDICATED 





INTRODUCTION 

The book of Job is generally 
recognized as one of the most 
interesting of all the books of the 
Old Testament and, as a divine 
drama, stands at the top. No 
book is more Oriental. The whole 
Bible is an Oriental book, but the 
book of Job is of such a character 
that, in order to interpret it rightly, 
one must approach it from the 
Oriental point of view. The 
author of this volume, being a 
native of Mt. Lebanon and having 
received his academic training in 
the Syrian Protestant College at 
Beirut, has been successful in 
approaching it from this point of 
view. I have read his manuscript 
with great interest. Without 
fancifully interpreting the book 
from a dramatic point of view he, 

[7] 





nevertheless, brings to bear upon 
it so much that is characteristic of 
his own country that a flood of 
new light is thrown upon it. The 
average student of the Bible, there- 
fore, cannot possibly read his work 
without having gained a better 
appreciation of the book. Most 
heartily do I commend it to the 
Bible reading public. 

George L. Robinson 

McCormick Theological Seminary, 
Chicago, Illinois, 

October, 9th, 1914. 



[8] 





CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

Introduction 
I. Our Man of Patience 
II. A Present-Day Picture 
III. An Old-Time Picture 



PAGE 

7 
13 
23 
43 




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CHAPTER I 
OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

Job is known all over the Holy 
Land as the Man of Patience. He 
looms above the grand procession 
of moral leaders in the Old Testa- 
ment as the most courageous poet 
and of unwavering integrity. His 
patience has become proverbial. 
In the moment of extreme dis- 
tress, when endurance is nearly 
at an end, a Syrian flings out his 
arms and exclaims, " for the 
patience of Job (ya sabr Ayyub) ! " 

May it not be stated at the 
start that the main point in the 
Book of Job is not the problem of 
suffering, as many scholars have 
alleged. God allows Satan to put 
Job's boasted perfection to the 
test, to let loose at him the hungry 

[15] 





hosts of the horrid animalcula of 
elephantiasis, or black leprosy. 
Then both God and Satan stand 
outside the arena and watch the 
combat. Hence, physical suffer- 
ing is the means by which Job's 
integrity is being tested and can- 
not, without doing injustice to 
our reasoning faculties, be con- 
sidered the main point in the 
Book of Job. 

The main point is the unshaka- 
ble trust of the suffering poet in 
his own integrity, or rather in his 
own self. Therefore, all things 
considered, the key to the Book of 
Job is the words — " Till I die I 
will not put away mine integrity 
from me. My righteousness I hold 
fast, and will not let it go " 
(27 : 5, 6). It is this holding on to 
one's integrity that constitutes 
the main buttress of patience, and 
it is this that gives the inhabitants 
of old Syria the right to call Job 
the Man of Patience. When the 

16] 







OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

keen-sighted James of the New 
Testament sweeps with his eyes 
the vast field of history in search 
for a man whose patience he 
could hold up before the per- 
secuted Christians of his day as a 
good example, his eyes rest on none 
other than Job, and thus he says, 
" Ye have heard of the patience 
of Job." Moreover, it is Job's 
integrity, or patience in its truest 
sense, that Satan has in mind 
when he says, Doth Job fear God 
for nought? and that Jehovah 
also has in mind when He says 
about Job, " And he still holdeth 
fast his integrity although thou 
movedest me against him, to de- 
stroy him without cause." 

The Book of Job is, doubtless, 
a great book. Luther says of it, 
" Magnificent and sublime as no 
other book in Scripture." Renan 
says, " The Book of Job is the 
Hebrew book par excellence — 
it is in the Book of Job that the 

[17] 



force, the beauty, the depth of 
the Hebrew genius are seen at 
their best." Tennyson counts it 
" the greatest poem of ancient or 
modern times." " I call it," says 
Carlyle, " apart from all theories 
about it, one of the grandest things 
ever written with pen. One feels, 
indeed, as if it were not Hebrew; 
such a noble universality, different 
from noble patriotism or noble 
sectarianism, reigns in it. A noble 
book; all men's book." 

As to the nature of the Book of 
Job, the prevailing opinion among 
scholars is that the Book of Job 
is a drama, the writer of which is 
a Hebrew genius who took up the 
story of an afflicted non-Israelite 
from the land of Uz, located some- 
where in the northeastern part of 
Palestine, and made it the basis of 
a masterful dialogue on the prob- 
lem of suffering. Cheney's idea is 
that the story was picked up by 
the Israelites in old Bashan, known 

[181 



«mmb^&hm«8 



at present as Hauran, the strong- 
hold of the Druses. * 

Being a drama it necessarily 
follows that the story recorded by 
the prose parts of the book pre- 
dates the poetry part, or that the 
story comes first and the dialogue 
next. That this drama theory 
has gained wide acceptance in 
Occidental countries is the domi- 
nant note of the elaborate intro- 
ductions of almost all the newest 
commentaries on Job. One of the 
leading men in a very distin- 
guished publishing house in New 
York stated last August that the 
final word on Job had already been 
uttered — that final word, of 
course, presupposing the drama 
theory. James Strahan's book, 
which now appears on the shelf 
of many a minister's library, is 
regarded by many as unsurpass- 
able — and Strahan also holds 
the drama theory. Let it then be 
borne in mind that almost all 

[19] 






Occidental scholars regard the 
Book of Job a drama. 

But what do Oriental scholars 
say? It must be stated that the 
few Oriental scholars who have 
lately paid any attention to the 
Book of Job have utterly rejected 
the drama theory for cogent rea- 
sons which are forthcoming. Fore- 
most among those scholars is the 
far-famed Holy-Land lecturer, 
known by the pseudonym Saleem, 
who is averse to have his real 
name appear in print. The reader 
is, however, requested to pay strict 
attention to what the modern 
Oriental scholars hold regarding 
the Book of Job. 

As a sidelight let it be noted 
that the Holy Land is a distinc- 
tively picturesque country, and 
that the writers of that country 
have concerned themselves more 
with the drawing of pictures than 
with the stating of definite concrete 
facts. These pictures are intended 

[20] 




to be looked at from a distance, 
whence the spiritual light with 
which they are irradiated makes 
them beautiful and highly im- 
pressive. But they are never 
intended to be put under the 
microscope, or subjected to the 
rigid tests of exact logic and science 
to which Occidental scholars have 
been subjecting them. There is 
a placard at the entrance of the 
vast field of Oriental religious 
teaching which all Occidental peo- 
ples will do well to read and 
keep in mind. That placard com- 
mands: "Look from a distance; 
draw not nigh hither; take off 
thy shoes from off thy feet for the 
place whereon thou standest is 
holy ground." It takes an Orien- 
tal to interpret the exact meaning 
of those pictures and to disclose 
the thoughts which surged in the 
bosoms of the ancient Oriental 
seers when their hands were busily 
painting those pictures. In other 

[21] 









CHAPTER II 

A PRESENT-DAY PICTURE 

On the eleventh of June, 1914, 
while traveling in the Holy Land 
gathering material for his lec- 
tures, Saleem happened to enter 
one evening a small village at the 
foot of Hermon. Owing to the 
absence of inns and hotels in 
most of the Lebanon villages, — 
in fact, there are no hotels except 
in the few villages known as sum- 
mer resorts, and even those are 
open only during the summer, — 
and owing also to the far-famed 
instinctive hospitality of the Syr- 
ians, Saleem had to put up at 
some house. No sooner had he 
reached the chief market-place 
than a number of people encircled 
him, bombarded him with all sorts 




of questions, for he wore European 
clothes, and then started to extend 
to him, in the most felicitous terms 
of ornate expression, their invita- 
tions to accompany them to their 
homes. He followed the one whom 
he supposed, judging from his 
honeyed loquacity and the marked 
respect which the others accorded 
him, to be the most influential 
person in that mountain village. 

After supper Saleem's host, 
whose name was Abu-Milhim, ad- 
dressing him, said: 

" O most respectful guest, you 
have come to your own people, 
our house is yours, you cannot 
imagine how happy we are to have 
you. Let me ask if you are fond 
of mvxmna" (a very common 
kind of Arabic poetry). 

Saleem assured him that he was, 
and that he had been for a long 
time traveling all over Syria with 
the special purpose of meeting 
Syrian poets and securing all he 

_ [26] 




PLAYING THE RUBABA 




A PRESENT-DAY PICTURE 



I 



could of the effusions of their 
naturally effervescent minds. 
Then Abu-Milhim went on: 

" You know, our generous guest, 
we have a very old man in our 
village, called Abu-Ayyub (father 
of Job), who has been a muanna 
composer and singer from child- 
hood. Although he is bedridden 
and looks as if he has been already 
for years a denizen of the horrible 
vaults of death, his fondness of 
muanna has not waxed cold and 
his insatiable desire to meet Leba- 
non poets tete-a-tete and have a 
brush with them has never waned. 
The people here believe that 
Sheikh Abu-Ayyub — by the way, 
his name fits him splendidly for 
he and his son Ayyub are both 
men of suffering — will one day 
die with the tambourine in his 
clutch. Poets seek him from every 
quarter of the globe to break a 



lance with him, and as far as my 
knowledge goes he has never been 

[27] 





known to bite the dust. Al- 
though he is about ninety years 
old — probably more, for he does 
not know the exact date of his 
birth — his mind is as clear as 
that of a young man of thirty. 
We are very proud of him." 

Here Abu-Milhim pulled out 
his tobacco bag from underneath 
his waist-sash, rolled up very deftly 
a thin cigarette, lighted it by a 
flint spark, and went on, after 
taking a long puff: 

" Fortunately two eminent poets 
have called on Sheikh Abu-Ayyub 
this evening, evidently for another 
poetical fray. It is not at all in 
accordance with good hospitality 
to ask you if you would like to 
accompany me to Sheikh Abu- 
Ayyub's house, but your expressed 
desire to meet Lebanon poets 
justifies such a breach of hospi- 
tality." 

" By your life, Sheikh Abu- 
Milhim," affirmed Saleem, "it 

[28] 




A PRESENT-DAY PICTURE 

would, indeed, be a breach of 
hospitality to deprive me of at- 
tending such a poetical contest. 
Your kindness is overflowing. You 
have no right at all to utter the 
word breach." 

On entering Sheikh Abu-Ayyub's 
house Saleem was astonished to 
find the small abode of the old 
invalid poet full of people. It 
was only after a great deal of 
wandering to and fro, amid a 
babel of assertions of self-abase- 
ment and nectarous expressions of 
welcome, that Saleem succeeded 
in finding a resting-place on a 
small cushion by the wall. 

A fewfeet away, opposite Saleem, 
was a very old man sitting in a 
bed spread on a fantastically- 
colored old Turkish rug. The 
deep furrows on his face, the long 
snow-white beard and scanty hair, 
the look of languor in his dark 
sunken eyes, indicated that he 
had seen far more years than the 

[29] 




OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



average man sees and had drained 
the cup of sorrow to the dregs. 
His bed-covers, originally white, 
looked now as black as if they had 
been for months in a collier's 
shop: not because the old man 
had nobody to look after him and 
keep his bed clean, but because, 
as Saleem learned afterward, his 
hermitical, peculiarly-warped mind 
considered dirt one of the many 
means of torture by which his 
body must be mortified before his 
soul could become worthy of a 
golden crown. That was Sheikh 
Abu-Ayyub, the famous poet. 

On casting a scrutinizing look 
over the noisy crowd Saleem saw 
that there were two other poets 
in the house, and each of them 
was surrounded by a large circle 
of grim-visaged, broad-shouldered 
young men. Although sitting in 
his bed, with a deathly face and 
deep glistening eyes, Sheikh Abu- 
Ayyub was also surrounded by a 

[30] 




group of hilarious, sun-burnt young 
men, the clapping of whose mas- 
sive, callous hands might be heard 
for miles away. 

Instantly two young men ap- 
peared, one with a bottle of arak 1 
in the right hand and a small glass 
cup in the left, and the other with 
a tray on which there were four or 
five plates full of pistachio, salted 
chick-peas, and some native sweets. 
With the exception of the boys 
everybody in the house drank a 
cup and helped himself to a little 
of the contents of the tray. Those 
who had no inclination to drink 
the proffered cup could, by touch- 
ing the edge of it with their lips, 
prove to the host and his guests 
that they were by no means dis- 
courteous. But poets must drink 
arak, for it is universally believed 

*A strong Syrian intoxicating drink dis- 
tilled from grape juice and anise-seed. It is 
naturally colorless, but turns milk-white on 
addition of water. Drunkards call it, " Tears 
of the Virgin." 

[31J 



n^c 




OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



in Syria that arak, the essence of 
the very heart-blood of the vine, 
is the most intimate friend of 
impromptu poets, and the mind- 
wheels will not revolve unless first 
well lubricated by " Tears of the 
Virgin." 

Very soon afterward a tambour- 
ine was passed to Sheikh Abu- 
Ayyub. He refused to touch it, 
shaking his head in a very signifi- 
cant manner, for, being the host, 
it would be impolite for him to sing 
first. But the other two poets 
declared in a very respectful man- 
ner that Sheikh Abu-Ayyub was 
older than their fathers, and, 
whether host or guest, he pos- 
sessed that memorable evening the 
unchallengeable right of letting 
go the first arrow. 

After a great deal of taking and 
giving, Sheikh Abu-Ayyub raised 
the tambourine in his left hand and 
struck it with the right to a cer- 
tain familiar tune, which was in- 

[32] 




*% 




( 






x \y 







PLAYING THE DERBOUKA 



stantly caught up by one or two 
derbouka strikers among his young 
men, while the rest of them clapped 
their big hands in perfect con- 
sonance with the tambourine and 
derboukas. 

It was not more than a few 
minutes before Sheikh Abu- 
Ayyub's young men turned al- 
most mad. They gave expression 
to their so-far suppressed feelings 
of joy in such a wild uproarious 
manner that one might have feared 
for the safety of the ceiling had it 
not had oak beams and a covering 
of heavy earth one foot deep. 
The well-cadenced music of the 
clapping of their hard hands was 
deafening. 

No sooner had the uproar sub- 
sided than Sheikh Abu-Ayyub sang 
muarma, striking the tambourine 
gently: 

Alas! my days are fleeting: joy has 
fled away, 

[331 



r* 



OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

And sadness, dark and grim, has come 

with me to stay. 
My jet-black hair has turned as white 

as Hermon snow, 
And e'en my razor seems with anger 

now to bay. 1 




His young men, clapping exultingly 
to the tune of the tambourine 
and derboukas, sang after him the 
last two lines, so as to give him 
a little time for thinking and to 
express their approval of what he 
had already sung. Then he went 
on, using the third line of the first 
quatrain as a foundation for 
another quatrain: 

My jet-black hair has turned as white 

as Hermon snow, 
And e'en my razor urges me a beard to 

grow. 

1 A fairly exact translation of the poetry 
Sheikh Abu-Ayyub sang offhand. The Arabic 
measure and way of rhyming are also kept. 
The tune called muanna is slow and dreamy; 
low at the beginning of the line, high at the 
middle, and low again at the end. It varies 
a little with the different poets. 

[34] 




A shout of wild approval rent the 
air, and the young men of the 
old poet, clapping more wildly 
than ever, sang after him twice 
over the last line, quite in ac- 
cordance with muanna laws. 
Then he proceeded: 

In previous days my wife would never 

answer, No, 
But now, alas! she worries me by night 

and day. 

At this point the third and fourth 
lines only of the first quatrain 
were sung over again, as a refrain, 
by Sheikh Abu-Ayyub's young 
men. Then he took up the fourth 
line of the second quatrain, 
changed it a little, and sang: 

But now, alas! she worries me by day 

and night, 
Remembering not that I have nearly 

lost my sight. 
I wish some angel or some massive 

heavenly kite 
Would take me where the saints of God 

forever pray. 

[35] 



Would take me where the saints of God 

forever sing, 
And save me from my own Creator's 

deadly sting; 
For God, and wife, and friends, and 

every mortal thing — 
All seem to have some good advice to 

preach or say. 



All seem to have some good advice to 

say or preach 
And mine own righteousness before the 

stars impeach. 
Beware, man! the one whom now you 

love and teach 
Your art may, Judas-like, your sacred 

love betray. 

The last word had hardly been 
uttered when Sheikh Abu-Ayyub's 
young men cheered wildly for 
two or three minutes: all half- 
standing, waving their hands above 
their heads, and shouting one 
after another — " Bishaif Sheikh 
Abu-Ayyub ya shabab wa hay, 
hay! Bow down with your sword 
and shield to Sheikh Abu-Ayyub, 

[36] 




O young men, hay, hay!! . . 
and then cheering all together. 

Then Sheikh Abu-Ayyub struck 
the tambourine and sang quarradi: 

Sacred friendship will not bend 
Though the wounds of parting smart: 
Welcome, welcome, faithful friend, 
Peace and joy have filled my heart. 

For about fifteen minutes the 
quarradi poured out from the 
toothless mouth of the old poet, 
singing one quatrain or two at 
a time, the last line always rhym- 
ing with the fourth line of the 
first quatrain. The boisterously 
excited young men, squatting like 
big imps around the old man's 
bed, sang over the refrain, which 
consisted of the third and fourth 
lines of the first quatrain, at the 
end of every quatrain. 

The quarradi tune is rapid and 
melodious, the foot of the verse 
being a regular trochee, with two 
rises and two falls in the voice in 
every line, the rise preceding the 
[37 j 



lYtt^ 


fe^ffi^^^^f& 


S/fi^ 


3a3 


OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 




fall. It is somewhat a relief to 


tA (a 


the ear after the slow, dreamy, 
touching muanna tune. 




'»•'',' 


As soon as Sheikh Abu-Ayyub 
felt a little tired he passed the 
tambourine over to the poet next 


l/^MFt f 


^fri 


to him in age, Abu-Naseef, who 






had been quietly and carefully 






taking in what he had been singing. 




MLjM 


Abu-Naseef had the whole field 




Ut* 


for himself for about twenty 
minutes, singing both muanna and 


^\V 


ife 


quarradi. His young men in their 




w3 


turn were not less boisterous than 
Sheikh Abu-Ayyub's. Once or 




"5rfl 


twice one of them, a pockmarked, 
thick-set, jolly-looking fellow, 


1 




would snatch the fez off the head 






of one of his neighbors in excite- 






ment and hit the ceiling with it. 




jAL 


From Abu-Naseef the tambour- 


i^\^ 




ine passed to Abu-Asaad, who did 




Ir^L^n 


his best to throw his two competi- 




Hh|1 


tors into the shade. So the singing 
went on: each of the three poets 






attempting to outshine the other 






[38] 












T3 

03 

03 
> 

o 

O 

oT 
« 



03 

+3 



a 
o 
a 

c3 

03 

►-3 



' 



two. It did not take them long 
before they clung to a definite 
subject and followed it for about 
three hours. Sheikh Abu-Ayyub 
had unquestionably the ripest and 
pithiest thoughts, but owing to 
his old age and his manifest physi- 
cal weakness he was liable to 
occasional digressions from the 
main line of thought. Sometimes, 
while his young men were singing 
the refrain, he would ask, " What 
did I say last? " That was, of 
course, pardonable in his case. 

At the conclusion of that mem- 
orable poetical contest Saleem 
walked back to his host's home in a 
very exultant state of mind. He 
had attended in his younger days 
many poetical frays of that kind — 
in fact every wedding on Mt. 
Lebanon and every special occa- 
sion of merriment is considered 
incomplete without the clash of 
the intellectual swords of the na- 
tive poets and without the tinkling 

[39] 







OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



sounds of their tambourines. But 
never before had his mind busied 
itself so assiduously in hunting 
up analogies between the poetical 
contest related in the Book of 
Job and the contest of the Leba- 
non poets which he had witnessed 
that evening. 

While we are gazing at this 
present-day picture it is well for us 
to know that nearly every village 
on Mt. Lebanon boasts of at least 
one poet, called in Arabic qawwal, 
who can sing poetry impromptu 
whenever and wherever he is called 
upon to do so. The majority of 
those Lebanon poets are illiterate, 
but now and then one comes across 
some flaming genius of a poet 
who can read and write and who 
can sing as good poetry as that of 
Job, if not better. One marvels 
how such a poet can sing offhand 
for several hours well-measured 
poetry, interspersed with clever 
hits and beautiful gems of thought, 

[40] 





A PRESENT-DAY PICTURE 



which will not fail to put to shame 
the poetry of many a college pro- 
fessor. Long years of untiring 
practice, encouraged and sustained 
by the enthusiastic approval with 
which success in that art is met by 
the people, have developed the 
poetical faculties of those poets 
to a very high degree. 

It is, however, a remarkable 
fact, yea, rather an important 
discovery, that the larger part of 
the poetry of the Book of Job can, 
without much difficulty, be sung to 
the quarradi tune, which is very 
common in Syria at present. In 
some places the quarradi tune fits 
splendidly and the Hebrew flows 
on, without a single jar, like the 
smoothest of Arabic quarradi. 

Therefore, looking at the Book of 
Job in the simplest way — " and 
real things are simple " — we must 
aver that it is an account of a 
poetical contest which took place a 
long time ago at some isolated place 

[41] 




in Syria. That account was proba- 
bly written out by one man, who 
took from the poets what they 
had sung in the contest, revised 
or moulded it according to his 
own mind, and then gave it out 
to the world in the shape we have 
in our hands now. Many similar 
collections of Arabic poetry, sung 
within the last fifty years by il- 
literate Lebanon poets, are being 
sold in all the book stores of 
Palestine. 

With this fresh present-day pic- 
ture before our minds we can now 
proceed to the study of the Book of 
Job. 





CO 



o 
•-a 







AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 



CHAPTER III 



AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 



The old poet Job, or Sheikh 
Ayyub, has been stricken with 
elephantiasis. He lies on the dung- 
hill — called mizbeleh in Arabic — 
in front of his home and starts 
scraping the boils and scales with 
a potsherd. Soon the news of his 
affliction spreads around and his 
three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and 
Zophar, mount their camels and 
start toward his home. When 
they see him lying on the dunghill 
they lift up their voices and weep, 
a custom which still survives in 
Syrian funerals. 

Job's friends do not only weep — 
they rend their clothes and sprinkle 
dust upon their heads toward 
heaven. So they sit down with 

[45] 






Job upon the ground seven days 
and seven nights, and none speaks 
a word unto him: for they see that 
his grief is very great. 

Then Job takes the tambourine 
and strikes it. 

The poetical contest is about to 
begin. The poets have seated 
themselves according to age. A 
large crowd of people has gathered 
around them. Men and women, 
old and young, are impatiently 
waiting for the beginning of the 
long-expected contest. The odds 
are against the three friends, for 
Job has heretofore been invincible. 
Some, however, are rather afraid 
that the malignant disease from 
which he is suffering may affect 
the usual easy flow of his thoughts 
and the clarity of his mind. 

After this Job opens his mouth 
and curses his day. He curses the 
day in which he was born 
(3 : 3-10), asks why he did not die 
when he was born (3 : 11-19), and 

[46] 





8HM^&fc8MK9| 




OLD-TIME PICTURE 



why should one be made to live 
when he wants to die (3 : 20-26). 

The cursing by Job of the day 
in which he was born indicates 
that the sufferer is exceedingly 
angry and is wishing for death 
to come and relieve him from his 
sufferings. He longs to pass into 
the shadowy land of death. 
" There the wicked cease from 
troubling; and there the weary are 
at rest" (3 : 17). 

Here it is that Job's attitude 
toward God, in the eyes of the 
three friends, becomes that of 
defiance rather than of patient, 
unquestioning submission. One's 
birth and death are completely 
in God's hands and it is blasphem- 
ous for any human being to whisper 
the least complaint regarding 
them. The terrific solitude of 
Sinai, where Jehovah gave his 
name to man, is merely an emblem 
of the still solitude which must 
rule in every temple bearing God's 

[47] 




OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

name, whether that temple be of 
stones or of flesh and blood. That 
is what the Oriental believes to be 
the proper attitude of man toward 
God. 

A woman is squatting on the 
narrow sidewalk in Beirut, gesticu- 
lating hysterically in a very piteous 
way. Now and then she strikes 
her head hard with the palms of 
both hands. Every one that sees 
her thinks that she is insane. 
She says in a heart-rending tone, 
" I pray you, kill me and rid me of 
this miserable life! " Suddenly 
you hear a voice saying to that 
woman in a commanding tone: 
" Blaspheme not, O daughter; bless 
God and keep quiet; the hour of 
death has wisely been withheld 
from man; bridle your tongue in 
the presence of the omnipotent 
God; sinful man has no right to 
utter a single complaint in His 
presence." The speaker has a 
wide white turban and a long 

[48] 





OLD-TIME PICTURE 

grizzled beard. He is one of the 
best known religious leaders in 
Beirut. 

What this religious leader says 
to the forlorn woman voices the 
sentiment of almost all Orientals 
regarding man's attitude toward 
God in the hour of suffering. 
Whether one is suffering or not it 
is highly sacrilegious to curse the 
birthday or to utter a single com- 
plaint regarding God's dealings 
with his children. The present 
inhabitants of the Holy Land say, 

Man's eye must never be turned 
toward Heaven with any other 
object than that of reverent 
prayer." Therefore, the first sign 
of Job's rebellion in the eyes of his 
three friends is his cursing of his 
birthday and the wishing for death. 

THE SPEECHES OF THE THREE 
FRIENDS 

A noteworthy characteristic of 
all the Syrian poets is the desire 








to make every other poet lick the 
dust. Every poetical contest be- 
gins with suave honeyed expres- 
sions of strikingly clever thoughts, 
either in praise of a bridegroom or 
some other eminent person, or in 
elucidating some interesting topic, 
and ends with the hurling of 
venomous missiles in every direc- 
tion. Many of the illiterate people 
seem to think that such a contest 
could not be very interesting with- 
out such a spectacular ending. 
The poet who can be wittiest at 
his opponent's expense generally 
gets the most applause. Thus 
poets begin the contest as wise men, 
the respected intellectual leaders 
of the community, and end as 
bitter enemies ready to jump at 
each other's throats. And very 
often at such a moment the inter- 
vention of an outsider, a univer- 
sally respected man, an Elihu, 
or the village priest, introduces a 
spirit of reconciliation, thus pre- 
[50 j 




rr* --. . r 3 




t - 



THOU SHALT FORGET THY MISERY 

Job 11:16 





OLD-TIME PICTURE 



venting the occurrence of an actual, 
and sometimes bloody, feud. 

Now taking up the speeches of 
Eliphaz we find manifested in 
them the same Oriental spirit 
which has just been described. 
Eliphaz begins (ch. 4 and 5) in 
a calm, courteous spirit, and ends 
in an agitated rancorous one. He 
begins with indirect insinuations, 
and ends with malicious merciless 
stabs. 

Being a native of the land of 
dreams and visions Eliphaz sees 
a vision in the night. He is 
sleeping in the open, in the center 
of a vast plain hemmed in on all 
sides by high bleak mountains. 
It is midnight, and perfect silence 
reigns. The sky above his head is 
besprinkled with myriads of bold 
stars, the unusually clear twinkling 
of which seems to belie the theory 
that they are billions of miles 
distant from the earth. The voice- 
less solitude affects his nerves, 

[511 



OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



and his eyes appear not to have 
the least inclination to close. His 
Oriental mind, accustomed from 
childhood to hearing long jinn 
stories and accounts of encounters 
with evil spirits, busies itself in 
the midst of that awe-inspiring 
silence in conjuring up all sorts 
of fantastic pictures. Having be- 
come highly sensitive Eliphaz sees 
a vision, a spirit passing before his 
face, interposing between him and 
the stars. It stands still in mid- 
air. Fear comes upon him in a 
nightmare and makes all his bones 
to shake. A chill of horror runs 
through him; his hair stands up. 
Then, all of a sudden, he hears a 
voice, deep, solemn, firm, breaking 
the fearful silence that surrounds 
him and saying: 

Shall mortal man be more just than 

God? 
Shall a man be more pure than his 

maker? 

What can be more poetic, yea, 

[52] 




rather, dramatic, than that? 
Surely Eliphaz is a very versatile 
artist. He knows how to ap- 
proach a very difficult subject. 
Back in his mind lurks the thought 
that Job, a mortal man, has been 
suffering as a direct consequence 
of his sin. Job, by complaining, 
has set himself above God, thus 
making himself more just than 
God. But it would not be wise 
to say that to Job at the start. 
Hence the impersonal or general 
way in which he expresses himself 
in his first speech — " Shall mor- 
tal man be more just than God? " 
— " But man is born unto trouble" 
— - " Happy is the man whom 
God correcteth." It is man in 
general, and not Job, with whom 
Eliphaz is apparently concerned. 

In his second speech (ch. 15) 
Eliphaz flings aside the garb of 
courtesy and becomes somewhat 
direct. Although he does not say 
to Job, right to his face, " Thou 

153] 





OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

art a wicked man/' he paints 
before Job's eyes, in his own imagi- 
native way, a very glaring picture 
of the wicked. After telling Job 
that his own lips testify against 
him, and after reiterating what he 
had already stated in his first 
speech regarding the justice and 
righteousness of God as contrasted 
with the corruption of a man 
" that drinketh iniquity like 
water," he proceeds to paint an 
unpleasant picture (15 : 17-35). 
Of course, a keen-minded poet 
like Job could not fail to under- 
stand whom Eliphaz has in mind 
when he so masterfully paints that 
picture. 

In his third and last speech 
(ch. 22) Eliphaz unmasks his real 
self. What has already been surg- 
ing inside his bosom finds now an 
outlet. Tired of soaring high in 
the region of visions and dreams 
and of speaking indirectly to a 
man against whom he has many 

[54] 




AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 





charges to make, he now descends 
to terra firma and looks Job 
squarely in the face. He has 
already felt the odds going against 
him, has seen his two friends 
intimidated by Job's vehemence 
of expression, and has watched 
with no little fear the rise of Job's 
overwhelming tide of thought; and 
now he must aim his dagger at 
the most vulnerable point and 
stab. It is his last chance. He 
speaks to Job in rapid flaming 
sentences: 

Is not thy wickedness great? (a fearful 
frown.) 

Neither is there any end to thine iniq- 
uities. 

For thou hast taken pledges of thy 
brother for nought, 

And stripped the naked of their clothing. 

Thou hast not given water to the weary 
to drink, 

And thou hast withholden bread from 
the hungry . . . 

Thou hast sent widows away empty, 

And the arms of the fatherless have been 

broken. 

[55] 











By whom? . . . (Eliphaz' eyes set 

fiercely on Job) . . . 
By thee, O righteous Job! . . . (very 

sarcastic). 
O Job, Job, be sensible! 

Most of the fatherless children 
in Palestine, if they have nobody 
to look after them, go about the 
streets with an outstretched arm, 
begging. To break such an arm 
would be a terrible sin. Eliphaz 
charges Job with such a sin. 
Therefore, he declares, snares are 
round about Job and darkness 
has enveloped him. 

In short, sin, according to Eli- 
phaz, is the direct cause of Job's 
misery. And as a last advice he 
exhorts him to acquaint himself 
with God and be at peace. He 
can never delight himself in the 
Almighty and lift up his face unto 
him unless he has taken him as his 
treasure. God saves the humble 
person, the one who has none of 
the above six charges against his 

[56 j 




AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 



character, but who bows his head 
submissively to God's visitations, 
never doubting his justice, never 
questioning. That is the philoso- 
phy of Eliphaz. 

THE SPEECHES OF BILDAD 

Bildad's opening speech (ch. 8), 
like that of Eliphaz, is devoid 
of any direct attacks or even 
stinging expressions. Its burden 
is that God will not uphold the 
evil-doer, but he will awake for 
the pure and upright. If Job, 
instead of complaining, were to 
seek diligently unto God, surely 
he would make him prosperous, 
for the Almighty will not cast 
away a perfect man. 

Furthermore, Bildad invites Job 
to cast a glance over the past 
ages with the intent of deriving 
some helpful lesson from the ac- 
cumulated experiences of those 
who came before him, " for we are 
but of yesterday and know noth- 

[57] 





ing." To him the past teaches 
that " the hope of the godless man 
shall perish." 

In his second speech (ch. 18) 
Bildad harps on the same string 
on which Eliphaz had harped in 
his second speech. Only his pic- 
ture of the wicked man is worse 
than that of Eliphaz. His words 
are full of venom. One can easily 
imagine Bildad half-standing in 
the midst of a large circle of 
boisterously-clapping young men, 
his eyes set fiercely on Job, his 
head shaking at him, and the 
tambourine quivering and tinkling 
in his left hand above his head as 
he sings: 

The light of the wicked shall be put out. 
The spark of his fire shall not shine. 
The light shall be dark in his tent . . . 
A gin shall take him by the heels. 
A snare shall lay hold on him . . . 
Terrors shall make him afraid on every 

side . . . 
He shall have neither son nor son's 

son ... 18 : 5-19. 
[58] 





What could be more rasping to 
Job than such a worse-than-direct 
denunciation? Every line breathes 
the spirit of vindictiveness. Most 
likely Eliphaz and Bildad had 
agreed beforehand on the best 
way to torment the proud spirit 
of the old poet by whom they had 
been defeated in many previous 
contests. A better opportunity 
they cannot expect to have, now 
that the hand of God is upon 
him. 

What deserves particular notice 
in Bildad's description of the 
wicked man is v. 19, " He shall 
have neither son nor son's son 
among his people." No worse 
calamity could befall a native of 
Palestine than to be childless. 
You hear it said everywhere in 
Syria, " One's happiness consists 
in the number of children he has." 
A childless person is pitied by 
every body, and on every occasion 
when a good wish is not considered 

[59] 





out of place you hear people say, 
" We hope that God will send him 
a son." Even if he offer a glass of 
water to a passerby, the glass will 
be returned with the almost too- 
frequent wish, " We hope that 
God will send you a son." In a 
land such as Palestine where mar- 
riage is looked forward to as the 
chief occasion of one's happiness, 
and where wedding festivities 
sometimes continue for a whole 
week during which old and young 
participate in eating, drinking and 
singing, and where the son is 
called the staff upon which the 
father leans in his last days, — 
in such a land it is no marvel that 
an implied imprecation like Bil- 
dad's should have stabbed Job 
through the heart. 

Bildad's third and last speech 
(ch. 25) is very short. It is a 
song of praise and has nothing 
to do with Job. 




AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 




THE SPEECH OF ZOPHAR 

Zophar sings twice only. The 
points of similarity between Zo- 
phar's first speech (ch. 11) and that 
of Bildad are quite apparent. Both 
stanchly believe that suffering 
is God's immediate punishment 
for sin, and both advise Job to 
lift up his face toward God in the 
spirit of contrition. 

In his second speech (ch. 20) 
Zophar also, like Bildad, occupies 
himself with such a graphic and 
bitter description of the wicked 
as would not fail to send shivers 
down a sinner's back. He must 
have followed Bildad's example in 
the manner of delivery and the 
tone of voice. 

It is noteworthy that Zophar 
reflects more plainly than his two 
friends the prevailing belief of the 
East when he sings : 

The triumphing of the wicked is short 
And the joy of the godless but for a 
moment. 

[61] 




No matter how materially pros- 
perous a man may be, though he 
be the wealthiest individual in 
the world, if, according to the 
dictum of public opinion, the fear 
of God is not holding perfect sway 
in his heart, then surely a time will 
come when " he shall fly away as a 
dream, and shall not be found; 
yea, he shall be chased away as a 
vision of the night. . . . His chil- 
dren shall seek the favor of the 
poor. . . . He shall suck the 
poison of asps. . . . When he is 
about to fill his belly, God will 
cast the fierceness of his wrath 
upon him, and will rain it upon 
him while he is eating." Not 
only the earth, but " the heavens 
shall reveal his iniquity." 

Summing up : — The three 
friends believed that the wicked, 
doubtless, received his punishment 
for sin while his eyes were still 
open to this visible world. Very 
likely it never crossed their minds, 

[62] 





WHEREFORE HIDEST THOU THY FACE?" 

Job 13: 24 




while they were singing, that there 
was such a thing as a resurrection 
with the possibility of retribution. 
Therefore, they attributed Job's 
sufferings to a wilful wickedness in 
his own life which he was unwilling 
to confess. 

THE SPEECHES OF JOB 

What Job says to the so-called 
three friends may be summed up 
in a few words — " There is not a 
wise man among you: you are all 
forgers of lies, physicians of no 
value, artful hypocrites, I know 
you ! Do you wish that God should 
lay open your hearts before this 
assemblage of men and search 
you out? You cannot deceive 
him." — (See 13 : 1-12 and 17 : 
10.) 

Therefore, judging from Job's 
words, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar 
cannot be considered true friends 
of Job, for the lack of sympathy 
they have betrayed is directly 

[63] 




OUR MAN 



opposed to the right spirit of 
Oriental friendship and cannot be 
tolerated for a single moment 
inside its shrine. In reality, the 
three friends are three poets who 
have had more than one encounter 
with Job in days past and have 
been badly defeated, and now, 
having heard that the old poet has 
been at last afflicted by God, they 
call upon him to rub some salt 
into his breaking boils. 

Having thus cleared the way we 
can now proceed to what Job says 
regarding his relation to God. 
This embraces the main section of 
Job's speeches, and it contains the 
object for which the Book of Job 
exists. The visit of the three 
friends is simply an incidental 
means which brings what the vexed 
old poet has to say about God into 
bold relief . 

The distinctive voice of the 
Orient in Job's days is that of 
rigid, blind, childish conservatism. 

[64] 




It is a voice which solemnly in- 
forms the race that their Creator is 
the Absolute, who demands from 
them incessant worship in child- 
like faith and whose doings are 
never to be questioned. It is the 
voice which Moses heard in the 
midst of the inspiring solitude 
of Sinai saying, " Draw not nigh 
hither." 

But Job, in many respects, 
voices the spirit of an advanced 
age, probably an age of transition. 
His voice is the voice of rebellion: 
it is the united voice of millions of 
Jobs all over the world, who, al- 
though living up to the best known 
standards of righteousness, and 
striving to become as perfect as 
God is, are still mercilessly visited 
by some of the most malignant 
diseases known. It is the voice 
of the Occident, the voice of the 
enlightened section of humanity, 
who would like to probe into the 
mysteries of the spiritual world 

[65] 





hoping to discover what may 
strengthen their faith and brighten 
their outlook. 

Three points stand out pre- 
eminently in Job's speeches re- 
garding his relation to God — 
Job's integrity, God's wrath, and 
Job's longing for an intercessor. 

1. Job's integrity. The testi- 
mony of the writer of the Prologue 
regarding Job's life is enviable. 
He says, " And that man (Job) 
was perfect and upright, and one 
that feared God, and turned away 
from evil" (1:1). No weight 
can be justly attached to the 
testimony of the three friends re- 
garding Job's character for, as 
we have seen, they are malicious 
enemies, " forgers of lies." 

Job himself says a great deal 
about his own integrity, or the 
uprightness of his life. That is 
really the rock on which he stands. 
We have no reason to doubt his 
assertion of his own righteousness. 

[66] 




POVERTY 

Job 29: 16 




Lo*. 



AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 

It is the consciousness of his 
having walked in God's straight 
paths which gives him such fluency 
of speech and inflexibility of bear- 
ing in this great poetical contest. 
He can fearlessly raise himself a 
little on the mizbeleh and say to 
God, " I will speak ... I will 
complain in the bitterness of my 
soul. Am I a sea, or a sea monster, 
that thou settest a watch over 
me? . . . Let me alone for my 
days are vanity. Why hast thou 
set me as a mark for thee? " 
(7 : 11-20). And he can look in 
the face the people who are listen- 
ing to him and declare, " For 
he (God) breaketh me with a 
tempest, and multiplieth my 
wounds without cause ... 7 am 
perfect " (9 : 17-21). And then, 
pointing with his finger to heaven, 
he can also assert " But he knoweth 
the way I take; when he hath 
tried me, I shall come forth as 



gold "(23 :10) 



[67] 



5o» ^grsSss z^£r^5 «oS 




It is necessary here to be re- 
minded that what is meant in the 
Book of Job by the words right- 
eousness, perfection and integrity 
is not exactly what is meant by 
them in our day. Here is what 
they mean, in Job's own words: 

I delivered the poor that cried, 

The fatherless also, that had none to 

help them . . . 
I caused the widow's heart to sing for 

joy . . . 
My justice was as a robe and a diadem. 
I was eyes to the blind, 
And feet was I to the lame. 
I was a father to the needy: 
And the cause of him that I knew not I 

searched out. 
And I brake the jaws of the unrighteous, 
And plucked the prey out of his teeth 

(29 : 12-17). 

Job's perfection was measured 
by the standards of his age, when 
the plucking of the prey out of the 
teeth of a neighbor universally 
known as godless was considered 
a righteous act. The highly re- 

[68] 






fined element of subjective holi- 
ness involved in the word perfec- 
tion in later Christian usage, espe- 
cially in such places as Matt. 
5 : 48, never occurred to Job or to 
any of his contemporaries. 

Furthermore, it was a common 
belief in Job's day that God was 
against the wicked to destroy him 
and with the righteous to make him 
prosperous, that " terrors shall 
make the wicked afraid on every 
side " (18 : 11), and " his offspring 
shall not be satisfied with bread " 
(27 : 14), " yet shall the righteous 
hold on his way, and he that hath 
clean hands shall wax stronger 
and stronger " (17 : 9). 

Thus Job has a very important 
complaint to make against God. 
He says, " Behold now, I have set 
my cause in order; I know that 
I am righteous " (13 : 18). There- 
fore, I have right to expect kind- 
ness from my God. But, on the 
contrary, 







He hath taken me by the neck and 

dashed me to pieces: 
He hath also set me up for his mark . . . 
He cleaveth my reins asunder . . . 
He breaketh me with breach upon 

breach; 
He runneth upon me like a giant . . . 
My face is red with weeping 
And on my eyelids is the shadow of 

death; 
Although there is no violence in my 

hands, 
And my prayer is pure (16 : 12-17). 

Viewed from Job's standpoint 
and judged by the common stand- 
ards of his time, the complaint 
is just. A righteous man, whose 
mind has not yet been irradiated 
by the glorious light of immortal- 
ity, naturally expects some com- 
pensation for his righteous acts of 
self-denial in this visible world. 
If not, what could then be the 
reward of righteousness? 

And not only that, but what 
vexes Job still more is the persecu- 
tion he has been receiving at 

[70] 




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PL, 

6 

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O 

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Cm 
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the hands of the wicked. He 

says: 

I am as one that is a laughing-stock 

to his neighbor, 
I who called upon God, and he answered: 
The just, the perfect man is a laughing- 
stock (12 : 4). 

Also: 

But he hath made me a byword of the 
people; 

And they spit in my face (17 : 6). 

They abhor me, they stand aloof from 
me, 

And spare not to spit in my face . . . 

They thrust aside my feet . . . 

In the midst of the ruin they roll them- 
selves upon me (30 : 10-14). 

It is not an uncommon sight to 
see in some Oriental city a crowd 
of mischievous children following 
an idiot in the streets and amusing 
themselves by tormenting him. 
They would throw water on him, 
spit on his face, push each other 
on him, thrust their feet between 
his feet while he was walking, to 
trip him and make him fall, and 

[71] 




use all imaginable sorts of tricks 
to tease what little there was of 
mind out of him. That was the 
chief reason why in Christ's day 
most of the idiots, believed then 
to be possessed by evil spirits, 
sought cemeteries and secluded 
places in the wilderness and lived 
far away from the abodes of men. 
Doubtless Job, in the eyes of his 
unenlightened neighbors, is no bet- 
ter than those idiots, and, there- 
fore, deserves as hard a persecu- 
tion. One can easily imagine him 
lying on the mizbeleh, his body 
covered with sores, and warding 
off with his hands the attacks of a 
large circle of street boys. They 
would hurl themselves on him, 
spit on his face, drag him here and 
there from behind by his robe, 
shake their heads at him in de- 
rision, throw lizards and frogs 
on his neck, and torment him as 
much as they could. Would one 
then blame Job if he should cry, 

[721 



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W^^M^^^&B 


jj^fi^ 




AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 




Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; 




I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; 




\Ofl 


I will complain in the bitterness of my 






soul? (7 : 11). 
Or if he should groan 
Even if it would please God to crush 




1TM 


me? (6:9). 


Sjifr 




To suffer physical pain and to 
become at the same time the 






laughing-stock of his people, is 
more than Job can bear without 
complaining; or, in other words, 






without seeking to know from God 






the exact reason for such unde- 
served treatment. 




nfR 


2. God's wrath. There was once 






a boy in one of the British Mis- 
sion schools on Mt. Lebanon, 
Syria, who was entirely different 




*^v 


from any other boy in that school. 






His massive head, ample in front, 
indicated that he was by no means 






lacking in brain matter. But he 




\l\l 


was as changeable as the American 


WVmm 




weather. One hour he would be 


</ >M 




laughing hilariously as though he 




^apQ 


[73] 








su 



OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



had been transported in spirit into 
Paradise and made to taste the 
water of the elysian springs of God, 
and another hour he would go 
about with a downcast counte- 
nance, moody, moping, as though 
an avalanche of trouble had burst 
upon him and buried him alive. 
One day he would be a Christian 
strolling about the school grounds 
shouting halleluiah; another day, 
a sneaky deceitful devil sneering 
at everything that savored of 
religion. 

But the interesting feature in 
that fickle boy was the cause which 
he always gave for such frequent 
changes in his life. It was not 
uncommon to hear him say to some 
teacher who had shown loving 
interest in his spiritual welfare 
something like the following: 

" What is the use of my being 
religious? If I am converted or 
not you punish me just the same. 
Surely you harbor some grudge 

[74] 





against me." Then, frowning 
fiercely, he would add: "You 
treat the bad boys better than me. 
No more religion for me! To 
become a Christian means nothing 
more than to become a target for 
the whimsical teachers." 

Job's state of mind at this stage 
of his affliction is exactly similar 
to that of the Syrian boy during 
his season of gloom. After long 
reflection Job arrives at the start- 
ling conclusion that God has been 
holding him for his enemy (13 : 24; 
16 : 12; 19 : 11), and that, like 
human beings, the Almighty is 
passing through a fit of unac- 
countable anger (14 : 13; 19 : 11). 
It can not be otherwise, Job argues 
to himself, for were not God angry 
and in a highly strained state of 
mind, he would not treat me so 
arbitrarily, inquiring after mine 
iniquity although he knows I am 
not wicked. 

Then it is that Job flings out 

[75] 





his arms in a gesture of utter 
helplessness and sings: 

If I be wicked, woe unto me; 
And if I be righteous, yet shall I not 
lift up my head (10 : 14, 15). 

When God is angry he becomes 
like an Oriental despot: neither 
good nor bad acts can succeed in 
coaxing a smile to his face. His 
actions become more or less arbi- 
trary, for " He is in one mind, and 
who can turn him? and what his 
soul desireth, even that he doeth " 
(23 : 13.) He might do something 
of which, like men, He would later 
repent. Hence the much debated 
repentance of God mentioned in 
the Old Testament (Ex. 32 : 14; 
2 Sam. 24 : 16; 1 Chr. 21 : 15; 
Jer.26 : 19). 

In order to hasten the passing 
away of the dangerous frown from 
God's face, Orientals resort to 
offerings and sacrifices. For as the 
child will not wipe off its tears 
unless it sees a basket of oranges 

[76] 







OLD-TIME PICTURE 



placed before it, so God, the 
Oriental mind argues, will not 
smile benignantly again unless 
the sinner shows a spirit of real 
generosity. A Moses would hasten 
to offer a sacrifice, fully convinced 
that nothing could appease the 
flashing anger of the Deity like the 
traditional smell of burning flesh. 
Another Oriental would run toward 
God's tabernacle with a basket 
of first-fruits or a sack of wheat. 
But what does our Man of 
Patience do? Instead of resorting 
to offerings he looks up toward 
heaven and prays: 

Oh that thou wouldst hide me in Sheol, 
That thou wouldst keep me secret, 

until thy wrath be past, 
That thou wouldst appoint me a set 

time, and remember me! (14 : 13.) 

In the midst of the terrific storm 
which he now finds raging around 
him, with lightning flashing and 
thunder pealing and the wind of 
God's wrath blowing with titanic 

[77] 




force, the old poet, unwilling to 
forsake his hitherto unfailing 
Refuge, prays that he should be 
hid in some dark cavern where he 
could he secure until God's wrath 
be past. What a splendid faith! 
It recalls to mind the faith of an 
old Syrian who died a few years 
ago. As he sat one day, blind, 
in the corner of a dark room on 
Mt. Lebanon, a Christian lady 
approached him and said, " How 
are you? " He raised his head 
and stared vacantly in her direc- 
tion with eyes which had not per- 
ceived daylight for five years and 
said: 

" What shall I answer? My 
world is pitch-dark. But I see 
with my mind's eye a rope extend- 
ing from my room to the Mercy- 
seat. I hold that rope fast with 
both these weak hands of mine 
day and night. I never dare let 
that hold go." 

Then after the storm of God's 

[78] 




OLD-TIME 



wrath is past He would remember 
Job and smile again at him in 
loving kindness. 

It is at this point that Job's 
character shines with dazzling 
splendor. It is this cleaving of 
the world-famed Holy-Land poet 
unto his integrity that has im- 
mortalized his name and made 
his patience proverbial. Read the 
following utterances of his and 
marvel: 

Behold he will slay me; I have no hope: 
Nevertheless I will maintain my ways 
before him (13 : 15). 

Also: 

Till I die I will not put away mine 

integrity from me. 
My righteousness I hold fast, and will 

not let it go (27 :5,6). 

Job knows that he is righteous, 
and he will not for a single moment 
tolerate any idea of ever forsaking 
his righteousness. That is to him 
the " goodly pearl " whose price 
is far above the price of any jewel 

[79] 





OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 

this world possesses, and no power 
in heaven or earth shall ever 
succeed in wresting it away from 
him. The world may persecute 
him and spit in his face, disease 
may eat up his flesh and drive 
away sleep from his eyes and terrify 
him by all kinds of hideous spec- 
tres, and God may take him by 
the neck and dash him to pieces, 
but that pearl shall never be suf- 
fered to part from him. He clasps 
it and presses it to his heart with 
all his power. He will guard it 
against the powers of darkness 
just as a lioness would guard her 
whelps against the boldest hun- 
ters. That is the virginal chastity 
of his whole existence and he will 
defend it unto death. Heaven 
being obscured on account of God's 
anger, that pearl is the sufferer's 
only hope, the brilliant star that 
still shines through a rift in the 
dark clouds. (Read Ro. 8 : 38, 
39 and compare.) 

[80] 









A DAUGHTER OF JOB 



AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 



3. Job's longing for an inter- 
cessor. If there be a land on the 
surface of this globe which has an 
indisputable right to be called the 
Land of Intercession it is the Holy 
Land. An investigator will be 
amazed to see the place interces- 
sion holds in the life of the Syrians. 
Almost everything needs an inter- 
cessor or a go-between. The doc- 
trine of intercession or mediation 
on which hinges our salvation is 
the spontaneous expression of the 
very spirit of the Holy Land, if 
one may be safely allowed to de- 
tach it from the realm of direct 
inspiration. Or, in other words, 
the Bible, being the inspired ex- 
pression of the real life of the 
Hebrews, gives a very prominent 
and essential place to intercession 
in the magnificent structure of 
Christianity. Intercession is indig- 
enous to the Holy Land and was 
made use of by God in the reveal- 
ing of his plan of salvation. 

[81] 



<t 




For illustration. Two men 
quarrel and are summoned to ap- 
pear before the local representa- 
tive of the government, called 
mudeer, for a short informal in- 
vestigation preparatory to sending 
them to court. Each of these 
two men hands the mudeer a 
number of letters of intercession 
from important men to whose 
influence with the Pasha, it very 
often happens, the mudeer owes 
the very position he now holds. 
What can the mudeer do in such a 
dilemma? In order not to dis- 
please any of the intercessors he 
very often resorts to reconciling 
the two offenders and sending them 
back to their homes. A Lebanon 
judge once said that not a day 
passes without his receiving a 
number of letters of that kind, and 
sometimes, that is the only mail 
he receives. You may be stop- 
ping at a store in Beirut to buy 
a Turkish rug, and while going 

[82] 



■MWBlMfMi 




AN OLD-TIME PICTURE 

through the undesirable ordeal of 
bargaining and beating down the 
price to the just limit, a stranger 
may step in and say to the store- 
keeper, " For my sake let him have 
it at such and such a price," or 
he may say to you, " For my sake 
pay him so much." 

Coming to Job we find him at 
the darkest stage in his affliction 
longing for an intercessor. The 
natural desire for a go-between in 
this Oriental poet springs up to 
the surface when it is most needed. 
God is against him, the world is 
against him, his friends, and even 
his wife, are against him, and 
suddenly he sees a vision, — how, 
nobody knows, — that of an um- 
pire laying his hand upon God and 
him (9 : 33), of a witness vouching 
for him on high (16 : 19), yea, 
rather of a living Redeemer, who 
will one day stand on this earth 
to be seen by those who love him 
(19:25,26). 

[83] 



'm^msm&mim 



3&g«3 



**w 



All Old Testament scholars ad- 
mit that the Hebrew text 
19 : 25, 26 is almost irremediably 
corrupt and that attempts at re- 
construction by German scholars 
have only increased the jumble. 
But in the midst of that heap of 
Textual ruin glitters the word 
goel, a priceless jewel of unparal- 
leled beauty, which ought to be 
held up at arm's length that all the 
world may see it. Whether it 
means redeemer, or vindicator, 
or any other similar appellative, 
it means to the Syrians the em- 
bodiment of that ever-swelling 
hope for an umpire, or a witness, 
or a go-between, who will stand 
between God and man and effect 
a reconciliation. 

In fact, this word goel revives the 
spirits of millions of mourners by 
the tombs of their beloved ones, 
turns over a leaf in God's book of 
evolution, and sounds a note of 
victory. The sentiment that lies 

[84] 




behind the remarkable assertion 
" I know that my Redeemer 
liveth " has not been fully ex- 
pressed by Handel nor by any 
other musical or poetical composer. 
A minute ago Job was groaning in 
the lowest depths of despair and 
saying concerning God, " He hath 
broken me down on every side, 
and I am gone; and my hope 
hath he plucked up like a tree " 
(19 : 10), and now he suddenly 
raises himself up on the mizbeleh, 
his face shining like that of Moses 
when he came down from Sinai, 
and shouts, " I know that my 
Redeemer liveth." That is in- 
spiration. That is how God some- 
times reveals his truths to man. 

At this point one may justly 
ask, What is Job's attitude toward 
immortality? A thorough perusal 
of Job's utterances will reveal the 
fact that the suffering poet, al- 
though ahead of his three friends 
and possibly of all the illustrious 

[85] 




men of his day in keenness of mind 
and breadth of spiritual vision, 
shares with them at the beginning 
of the poetical contest the primi- 
tive belief that death ends all 
activity. " There the wicked 
cease from troubling, and there 
the weary are at rest" (3 : 17). 
" As the cloud is consumed and 
vanisheth away, so he that goeth 
down to Sheol shall come up no 
more " (7 : 9). 

As the contest advances Job 
begins to perceive a glimmer of 
light ahead. His thoughts are a 
little confused in regard to the 
after-death fate of the soul. One 
minute he asserts that the dead 
shall not awake nor ever be roused 
from their sleep, and another 
minute he asks hesitatingly, with 
his eyes strained to catch the faint 
twinkling of a far-away star, " If 
a man die shall he live again? " 
He is feeling his way slowly to the 
mountain-top. He is still en- 

[86J 




JMOttS &tB*t&m 




O 
& 

n 

P 

o 
S 

o 

« 
P 




veloped in the annoying mist of 
uncertainty. Every now and then 
a thunder-clap shakes the very 
ground under his feet, thus threat- 
ening to send him rolling down 
to the bottom of some dark abyss. 
But he presses on, undaunted by 
the raging forces of doubt and the 
achings of his own body, until at 
last he reaches the top. Soon 
the clouds break up and begin to 
retreat downward, bringing into 
view a bright sky studded with 
myriads of stars. Inspiration 
again. There, just above the hori- 
zon, the victorious poet sees the^ 
Star of Immortality, the sight of 
which revives his dying spirit and 
gives him fresh vigor to combat 
the horrible disease which has 
been harrowing his flesh. He 
exclaims: 

But as for me I know that my Re- 
deemer liveth, 

And at last he will stand up upon the 
earth: 

[87] 





And after my skin, even this body, is 

destroyed, 
Then without my flesh shall I see God. 

Thanks to suffering. Had it 
not been for the elephantiasis 
Job might never have seen that 
vision. From the abject mizbeleh 
of scorn to the mountain-top of 
inspiration, from the raging tem- 
pest of physical pain to the balmy 
breeze of healing, from the cleav- 
ing unto an imperfect integrity 
to the beholding of Heaven's tran- 
scendent perfection — that is the 
glorious course. But through it 
all Job's integrity shines like a 
star of the first magnitude. 

There is hardly anything new 
in what Job says after he has seen 
the Star of Immortality. The 
swelling tide of his thoughts 
reaches its highest watermark in 
19 : 25, 26. 

At last the voluble poet lays 
down the tambourine. The three 
friends are silent, manifesting all 

[88] 




signs that they have been van- 
quished. Job's audacity and ve- 
hemence of expression, backed by 
an unusually strong personality, 
have been more than a match to 
their limited resources. 

Then a young man, Elihu by 
name, steps forward and answers 
Job. But the old poet does not 
pay the least attention to him, for 
after defeating the three older 
poets it would be far below his 
dignity to break a lance with a 
young man. 

As Elihu is about to lay down 
the tambourine a flash of lightning 
turns all eyes southward. A fear- 
ful crash of thunder follows. Dark 
clouds are stirring heavily in the 
south, their direction being evi- 
dently northward. A thunder 
storm is coming. But the brave 
Elihu does not allow this sudden 
manifestation of God's nearness to 
prevent him from using the oc- 
casion as a means to say some- 

[89] 



OUR MAN OF PATIENCE 



thing more on God's excellency of 
power. Hence the thirty-seventh 
chapter. 

Then the priest of the village, 
or the religious leader, steps for- 
ward and speaks for Jehovah. 
He has been listening, although 
unnoticed, to the speeches of the 
poets, and it is his duty, being 
God's mouthpiece to men, to give 
God's judgment about the puzzling 
question discussed. 

The speech he delivers, placed 
on the mouth of Jehovah, is a 
grand piece of poetry, describing 
in pleasant detail the combined 
power and wisdom of God as 
manifested in both inanimate and 
animate creation. It pictures the 
greatness of God in contrast with 
the smallness of man, or the big- 
ness of Jehovah in contrast with 
the littleness of Job. And all that 
is expressed in a delightfully sar- 
castic way which, on the face of it, 
may give the impression that the 

[90] 







A BLIND BEGGAR OF BEIRUT 




IK»-K1 




speaker is proudly making a dis- 
play of his strength. 

There is another Jehovah speech 
which is the exact complement of 
the one which has just been con- 
sidered. That speech has never 
been written down, but is always 
present to the mind of every in- 
telligent Oriental reader of the 
Book of Job. It may be thus 
summarized: 

" I am, O Job, creator and pre- 
server of all you see. I know 
everything about you, and I know 
what is best for you. Trust me 
through joy and pain, just as a 
child trusts its powerful father. 
I am the one ' who provideth for 
the raven his prey ' I am all in 
all; have faith in my power and 
wisdom and keep quiet and calm." 

This speech is implied in the 
recorded Jehovah speech. It is 
very common in Oriental writings, 
especially in Arabic poetry, to 
paint one side of the picture and 

[91] 



leave the other side to be inferred 
by the onlooker. A very common 
Syrian proverb says, " An intel- 
ligent person catches what you 
have in mind from a mere ges- 
ture." A simple gesture is suf- 
ficient to make him understand 
your thoughts. 

In other words, it is very com- 
mon in Syria not to give a direct 
answer. A beggar stops at a door 
and, instead of asking directly for 
a drink of water, he says, " I am 
very thirsty," which simple state- 
ment will be sufficient to procure 
him the desired object. The disci- 
ples of John went to Jesus and 
asked him a direct question, "Art 
thou he that cometh, or look we 
for another? " But Jesus did not 
give a direct answer. He com- 
manded John's disciples to go and 
tell John that the blind receive 
their sight, the lame walk, the 
lepers are cleansed, etc. He gave 
one side of the picture and left 

192] 





the other for John to infer. He 
could have answered John in one 
word — yes, but he would not 
have been distinctively Oriental. 
Furthermore, Jesus' answer in its 
present form is ten times more 
forcible and suggestive than it 
would have been had he simply 
answered, yes. 

Hence, by drawing such a mas- 
terful and vivid picture of God's 
power and wisdom, the author of 
the Jehovah speech calms the 
agitation of Job's stricken spirit, 
pours balsam upon his aching 
wounds, and makes him say very 
humbly: 

Behold, I am of small account; what 

shall I answer thee? 
I lay my hand upon my mouth . . . 
I had heard of thee by the hearing of the 

ear; 
But now mine eye seeth thee: 
Wherefore I abhor myself, 
And repent in dust and ashes. 

The calm state of trust which 

follows on the heels of that of 

[93] 



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